Next
by Scarlet Secret
Summary: Epilogues to each of the episodes, what happened after the credits rolled. Multiple character POV. Please enjoy and review :
1. BotB Wonderful

_A/N: I own nothing, etc. Right, these are just little drabbles that act as a sort of epilogue to the episodes. I'm not gonna lie to you, most of them will probably revolve around HB, so sue me :)_

_Battle of the Broomsticks (Wonderful) _

In the assembly that evening Miss Cackle congratulates the first years on their performance once again and begins a lyrical, and obviously rehearsed to perfection, speech about looking to their future at the Academy.

Mildred hears the first few words before her mind tunes out and she begins gazing around excitedly.

_I'm in!_

She took in the paintings on the wall, all snooty looking witches with their noses in the air, and wonders who they are before realising she has five whole years to find that out. Smiling she looks back to the stage; the teachers are all gathered, Miss Bat, seemingly as distracted as Mildred herself, Miss Drill, smiling politely at Miss Cackle's continuing speech, Miss Hardbroom scowling unabashedly in Mildred's direction. For a moment she looks like she's going to say something so Mildred quickly drops the smile on her face in case it provoked her.

She tries to re-focus upon Miss Cackle's speech and hears something about "forging excellence in witchcraft with a look to the future of all the girls in the Academy" before Mildred tunes out once more.

Out of the corner of her eye she can see Maud listening diligently and momentarily chastises herself for not having that much concentration before she smiles again at the thought of having a new best friend. All her friends in her old school had thought she was odd and tried to avoid her, in retrospect she thinks they didn't seem much like friends at all.

Mildred knew, as she returns her attention once more to her new headmistress that things here were going to be so wonderful. She'd get better on a broom, she was sure of it. And nobody could know that much about spells and potions already so she'll catch up, although she suspects that Ethel Hallow will probably sit up all night to learn them, just to spite her. And she'll make Miss Hardbroom like her one way or another.

She's sure of it. Things will be wonderful.


	2. WwFatMH An Aversion to Pizza

_When we Feast at the Midnight Hour (An Aversion to Pizza)_

She tries, for the sake of looking unified with the rest of the staff, to eat the pizza in front of her but finds despite her best efforts she can't.

As it's Saturday the staff are eating in the hall with the girls, perhaps the only tradition Constance wishes Miss Cackle would dispense with, and to her right Miss Drill is leaning forward to chat to Fenella and Griselda, seated at the table right next to the staff one, and Constance wrinkles her nose in disgust when she hears it is about Sir Walter.

'Honestly', she think, 'all of them should know better'.

To her left Miss Bat seems to be as cautious about the new food as she is, however she's attempting to eat it with a great deal more gusto, forcing Miss Cackle to keep handing her extra napkins.

Constance sighed again, aimlessly picking at the food, still irritated that she was expected to use her bare hands to eat it with, and wonders if she'll be able to hide the fact that she hasn't eaten anything. With the old school dinners it was quite easy, nobody noticed when there was one extra portion of leftovers in the bin, goodness knows there was usually a fair amount thrown away in disgust, but somebody was bound to notice if she threw this away.

This was all down to Mildred Hubble, it's barely a month into term and she's already sick of that name, and somehow she's going to make the headmistress see how wrong she was to give the girl a chance. She'll be nothing but trouble. She files away her mission in the back of her mind for future reference and returns her attention to the problem at hand.

To her right Miss Drill gets up to continue her discussion with the girls and quick as lightening Constance pushed her pizza onto her neighbours plate. She catches Miss Cackle's attention, resisting a surge of annoyance when her employers eyes briefly flicker down to her now empty plate, and Miss Cackle nods vaguely. Sighing thankfully Constance closed her eyes and vanished.

And arrived immediately in the kitchens to pilfer some spaghetti.


	3. PiaP Being a Halllow

_A Pig in a Poke (Being a Hallow)_

Afterwards Ethel cries out of sheer humiliation. She banishes Drusilla from her presence, places a simple silencing charm on her room, because she read about it last week and she is very serious about being a professional witch thank you very much, and then sobs into her pillow.

To think that jumped up little idiot like Mildred Hubble had gotten the better of her, and worse she had been forced to be in their debt! It was all Mildred Hubble's fault, her and that stupid boy! And her stupid friends had all laughed. And Drusilla had been useless!

She hopes passionately that her father never hears about this. That one of the illustrious Hallows, the most respected of witch families, whose name had been present at the very founding of scholarly witchcraft and whose pictures graced the walls of witch schools across the country but who were so important to the history of Cackles Academy, that one of those Hallows had been reduce to being a pig by somebody who barely even knew how to fly was intolerable. Her father would be so ashamed. Her mother wouldn't speak to her ever again.

Being a Hallow, Ethel understood, was a very serious business. One could not be a Hallow without a great deal of work going into the upkeep of the family name. Hence her private flying lessons and singing lessons and endless nights upon which her mother would test her on spells and potions and having the very best instrument money could buy. Because that's what being a Hallow truly meant - being the very best and making sure that everybody knew it.

Nightstar jumps up onto her bed and tries to prod his new owner with a wet nose before Ethel scoops him up and begins crying into his fur. She would be the best, if it killed her. She'd have the best cat, the best grades, the best violin, the best voice and if she had the spend the rest of her life trying she would get her own back on Mildred Hubble!


	4. MH A Real Witch

A/N: Wow, this chapter was a long time coming! I had real trouble with this one to be fair so the others should come easier now, for some reason this episode defeated me... anyway, enjoy.

The little boys had thrown stones at her when she was younger. She'd been much smaller then though and so dodging them hadn't been difficult however the little girls threw insults which she couldn't avoid and were a great deal more upsetting.

They thought her Grandmother was a witch. They were right of course but it didn't stop them being stupid. They had never seen her Grandmother performing spells or mixing potions or anything tangible – she just had a wart and a slightly elongated nose and therefore-

"Witch! Witch!"

Constance Hardbroom, ten years old and able to perform a number of spells that would make any examiner weep with pleasure, defiantly shut the front door of her house, shutting out the bitter cold and the irritating noise. She had chosen to think of it as irritating rather than hurtful, following her Grandmother's example.

"Granny?!"

"Cellar."

Constance smiled and with barely constrained restraint ran down to her Grandmother's workroom – she loved it down there where there was always something bubbling or some interestingly colour clouds of smoke in the air, and her Grandmother always kept a fire burning in the corner. It was cosy and comforting and she loved nothing more than doing her homework whilst curled up on the armchairs that she was rapidly becoming tall enough to use.

"Careful not to trip dear."

As her Granny warned her Connie rolled her eyes. And promptly stumbled on the bottom step as she had forgotten the results of her most recent growth spurt.

"How was your day?"

"Fine. What are you doing?"

"Well this one," she pointed to a cauldron emitting green vapours. "Clears pores. The red one there fills in the little bag under your eyes; the purple one will set when it's finished brewing and be nail polish that smells of plums. All quite frivolous I'm afraid my dear."

Constance smiled at her.

"Why make them then?"

"Mercenary reasons. Do you know what that means?"

"For the money?"

"Quite right. These potions will keep me in my dotage. Some women aren't blessed with our genes Connie, they're not all as beautiful as my little girl."

The old woman smiled as she stroked her Granddaughter's hair and returned to her bubbling potion. Constance took her usual seat in front of the fire and observed her Granny. She was slightly hunched over, but only to examine her potions; she did admittedly have a slightly long nose, but it was hardly excessively so; and she did have a wart but it was only a small one really and it wasn't like it was _on _her nose or anything. She sank into the chair in contentment and forgot her woes in a history book.

Twenty-five years later Constance Hardbroom, now long done with making examiners weep and learning non-curriculum potions from her Granny (and making a very nice subsidiary wage with cosmetic potions thank you very much) held up the mask she had confiscated from the first years and re-considered the old concern that one day she'd inherit her Granny's nose. And wart.


	5. DDTaT A Water Shortage

_Double, Double Toil and Trouble (PUNKY NIGHT!)_

_A/N: Some femslash, if you squint._

"Fenella! Griselda! What in the world do you think you are doing?!"

"Washing off our make-up Miss Hardbroom..."

"You did tell us to…"

"Immediately…"

"Right after we got off the stage…"

"Yes, yes! I am fully aware of that."

Constance, not for the first time, wished that she had had the foresight not to veto Delores Dragonsbane two years ago. If she hadn't then her alphabetic seating plan wouldn't have had such a big leap between Blackwood and Feverfew and a friendship would never have been born and she would have considerably fewer headaches. Although Mildred Hubble was rapidly contributing to just as many on her own.

"What I was enquiring over girl was why you felt the need to take a bath to remove some foundation?"

"We have it on our necks…"

"And arms…"

"And I had some down the V in my shirt…"

"Stop! That's quite far enough thank you. Just make sure you're down for dinner in half an hour."

"Yes Miss Hardbroom." They chorused. Constance shivered slightly.

"One final question though girls. Do you imagine we have a water shortage?"

"Miss?"

"A water shortage?"

"Erm…"

"No Miss Hardbroom."

"Then is there any particular reason you didn't feel the need to run _separate _baths?"


	6. MB Bored

_Monkey Business_

"So what was day-witch school like?"

"Boring."

"But you said it was boring here…"

"Millie, _all _schools are boring. Every last one of them. They're designed like that, and people like Hardbroom are designed to make things worse. It's not just boring…it's terrifying!"

Enid laughed as Mildred frowned. Her new friend didn't seem to understand that mockery of Miss Hardbroom was not the best idea. It was one of the many things she thinks she was supposed to tell Enid about to get her used to the Academy but it slipped her mind.

"You should be careful what you say about Miss Hardbroom. You never know if she's listening or not?"

"Why would she listen to us?"

"She listens to everyone."

"That's impossible."

Mildred rolled her eyes a little at the ignorance over HB-lore, every Cackle's girl had it ingrained on their bones from their second day.

"She's incredibly powerful and everything she does is impossible, but she does it."

"No, I mean she can't be in more than one place. She'd either listening to our conversation or my eyes are going funny and that's not her bullying the fourth years in the potions lab."

Mildred turned around to follow Enid's line of vision and sure enough there was HB, glaring at some fourth years in detention as they swept the lab, whilst occasionally writing something on the board. Mildred smiled back at Enid.

"Alright, so we're safe for now but there's still a good chance she can hear us-"

"You never look properly Millie. She knows we're here, she keeps looking over, and judging by how annoyed she looks every time she sees us, I think she's dying to eavesdrop but can't."

Mildred chanced another look at the lab. Sure enough her eyes immediately met HB's and whilst Mildred's eyes went wide, HB scowled harder at her before turning to snap at the fourth years.

Enid appeared at her shoulder, leaning over it somehow despite being several inches shorter.

"I think she _likes_ listening in. She's just as bored as we are."

Mildred pondered this theory.


	7. MCBS Teach Me

A/N: Sorry this one is so short, not my favourite episode I must say.

_Miss Cackle's Birthday Surprise_

After the party Mildred simply couldn't stop herself smiling.

They were in absolutely no trouble, she had a new friend, they were all going away for half term and they'd been allowed fairly substantial pieces of Miss Cackles special birthday cake!

"Enid?"

"Yes Millie." Enid managed to mumble around the mouthful of cake she currently had.

"Can you teach me how to fly properly?"

Enid looked confused.

"You can already fly."

"Not very well though, and I want to be able to fly like a proper witch. Maud's tried to help me loads but-"

"I'm hardly the best flier in the school myself."

"You're a brilliant teacher though Maud!"

Maud nodded away the praise and continued to eat her cake.

"Will you though? Teach me how to fly better. You were really amazing today and I saw you last week too, you're probably the best in the year…" Mildred waited for Enid to contradict the statement. She didn't. "And I really do need some lessons."

"HB not up to snuff then?"

Immediately Mildred's eyes widened and she looked around rapidly.

"No, it's not that," she whispered. "She's just…I find it hard to focus when she's breathing over my shoulder and I can't learn when I'm scared."

Maud looked thoughtful.

"By that logic you should be an expert at the rules of hockey and netball."

Enid laughed into her cake and Mildred wondered whether she could have been afraid of Miss Drill all along without even realizing.


	8. TGO The Return

_The Great Outdoors_

_Bloody HB!_

There had been certain moments during Imogen Drill's short tenure at Cackles that she truly felt like she could swing for the other teacher – this was one of those moments.

As she and the girls trudged behind Miss Hardbroom she couldn't help but think, once again, that the other woman saw her as one of them rather than a colleague. Either that or she took great delight in belittling her for no good reason. It was all so childish really and Imogen was half-tempted to give in and behave in spite.

"_Miss Cackle! Miss Cackle! Constance did magic when you told her not to!"_

She cold just imagine the derisory expression that this would be met with by all her colleagues.

_But Miss Miss, she broke the rules!_

Hardbroom would speak with authority when she described the fiasco that was the first half of half term week, Davina would flitter about her in an attempt to make her feel better that would only make her feel like more of a child and Miss Cackle without any shadow of doubt would not be angry but _disappointed_. Not for the first time Imogen felt sorry for the girls.

The girls were quickly dispatched to their bedrooms to unpack, Imogen hadn't even heard HB speak, and she found herself still following behind the older teacher.

_Being led to face the music I suppose_.

HB swung the staff room door open to the shock of the colleagues inside and Imogen knew once and for all that yes, she did do it for effect.

"Constance, Imogen! Wonderful to see you back. Was the trip a success?"

_Here it comes…_

"Adequately so Headmistress. No tents or girls were lost and no magic was used. Why you insisted on my going I do not know."

Miss Cackle looked slightly chastised however she was a braver woman than Imogen and so persevered, apparently not noticing the flailing jaw of her gym mistress.

"Would the pair of you like a cup of tea? We can swap stories from the week?"

"I intend to check on the girls, remind them that disobedience will not be tolerated even if the term does not officially start till Monday. I'm sure Miss Drill can relate the events of the week."

And in that moment when the Deputy vanished Imogen hated HB more than ever – because now, she owed her one.


	9. THiO We've all Fallen in a River

"_We've all fallen in a river from time to time!"_

The glare that Constance Hardbroom sent towards Davina Bat after she uttered those words could have cracked stone. A lesser woman would have fled, but Miss Bat merely continued on her rant to Miss Cackle, and Miss Hardbroom couldn't decide whether she was brave or mad. Thankfully she seemed to have forgotten her previous statement and was therefore unlikely to bring up the incident Miss Hardbroom had spent the better part of twenty years trying to forget.

_19 years earlier. Constance Hardbroom's final year of teacher training. _

Ever since she had escaped Heckity Broomhead, Constance had been unstoppable in her desire to be upright and as staunch as possible for the simple reason that she never wanted her mother deciding she needed to be under the woman's tutelage again. Needless to say this did not make her a great deal of friends but did make her a favourite of the staff - especially her Potions tutor, Harry Spellbottle who was somewhat overzealous in his enthusiasm for her talent but was also rather handsome and charming in a way Constance found she could stomach quite easily. The only teacher she tried to avoid out of principle was not even a proper lecturer and therefore in Constance's head was not really worthy of the same sort of respect. She had arrived at the beginning of term to give an overview of teaching chanting to those pupil who were so inclined and had not left yet, despite having long since finished her series of talks. Rumour had it she was living in the cupboard in the staff room however Constance knew this to be utterly insane and so merely raised an eyebrow and pursed her lips whenever she heard her peers discussing such nonsense.

As it was Constance realised only too late that it was behaviour like this that had failed to acquire her any friends and she promised herself that she would try to hide her disdain for the world in future and make friends with any other members of staff wherever she worked. So she gave up on her peers and spent her days sat by the slightly tinkling river on the grounds, safe under a tree with her stack of books, surreptitiously glancing up whenever Professor Spellbottle went past on the river, rowing the normal way. Sometimes Constance thought it a shame they didn't have any form of physical education within the magical community, especially when it could potentially result in Professor oh-please-Constance-call-me-Harry wearing less and less.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw him stop on the opposite river bank, slightly off to her left but for the life of her she could not see who he was talking to. She could hear his low, murmur (so pleasant on the ears she thought) and all she could make out of his companion was a somewhat high-pitched twittering. Words were indistinguishable but it was definitely female. Glancing around to make sure she could not be seen Constance put her book down and slowly began to edge herself closer to the waters edge, trying to catch a glimpse of this woman, whoever she was. The voices seemed to be getting a bit louder and when she settled right by the edge of the water, nearly hidden by the reeds she looked at the them again and they were getting closer.

It occurred to her in one horrible moment that if they continued on their path very shortly Harry and this mystery woman would be able to see her clear as day sitting in a pile of reeds staring at them. Suddenly frantic in her movements Constance first tried crouching down a little flatter in the hope that they might overlook her but, and here she cursed herself, purple and black dressed were not the most advantageous thing for camouflage and aside from anything else as soon as Harry saw her hair he would recognise her. Goodness knows it had been he who had been telling her how nice it looked down for so long. In a last moment of panic she decided to just make a run for it and was preparing to dart off without realising how tangles her feet had become in the reeds. She made one brief movement before she cottoned on to the problem but it was too late.

She stumbled and slipped and in a sickening moment felt herself falling, as if in slow motion, before she landed in the water with an annoyingly loud splash. When she surfaced she might have cried. The water was only three feet deep and so when resurfacing she had dredged up all the reeds and general debris that was now attached to every inch of her. And of course Harry had seen and immediately come running through the water to her rescue, as though she were imminently going to drown. But he did sweep her up into his arms, drenching himself in the process and return her to the bank so she supposed it could have been worse. She looked up, with a face redder than it had been in years, to see the woman he had been speaking with. She knew instinctively that this was the elusive chanting mistress who was alleged to be a few sandwiches short of a picnic. But kindly the other woman muttered a quick spell and Constance found herself dry, if not free of the reeds and leaves still sticking out of her ratted hair…

_Back in Present Day_

And to this day Constance still resented that the first time they had met, Davina Bat had been cool and calm, reassured and powerful. She had still been the same woman but she had at least been dignified in her lunacy. Constance had been sprawled on a river bank in a ruined dress, streaked make-up and had hair full of twigs and leaves, with tears of embarrassment falling down her cheeks. It really was so irritating that the old woman could bring this up at any moment. So very very irritating.


End file.
